The gate goes creak.
He's home at last!
I'm so happy I shake myself, this feels like the light of a thousand skies shining on me. The man is back, my friend, partner and ally. On good days he fondles my leaves; on bad days he sighs into my boughs. My photosynthesis gets a little boost from all the light, and the garden around me bathes in pure oxygen. It's this moment I wait for each day, like it was the first rain of spring, pattering delicately on my trunk and branches.
My friend tends to get in late.
Most times he'd turn up at sunset, and he'd pocket the car keys with a smile before he sets off toward me. Today he's early, and staring at his shoes with a troubled look, while coming around the car. He moves like he's pulling a leaden weight behind him, trudging along with steps toward the entryway.
Something isn't right.
This isn't like him at all.
Ádám is usually brilliant, little beams of light come sparkling around his skull, a mild yellow  aura of joy flowing around him like a cape. Now it's a dirty mustard colored mist. I can feel the vibrations as he draws closer. I'm not sure what's going on, but I reach out to him, beckoning him to stay in my cool shade. As he steps up my leaves flutter, but he has his head down and skirts around me. Ignoring me. I turn after him in disappointment. His ethereal body's overcast, its edges vibrating with dark blotches.
I know that vibration.
It never bodes well.
 
translated by Dani Dányi

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